Gemotions

Dust motes danced in the late afternoon sun as Liam stared at the empty, leather-bound notebook on his mentor’s desk. It was spotless, pristine. He'd imagined a final note, a scribbled piece of encouragement, a last bit of wisdom tucked between the pages. Nothing. His jaw clenched. He kicked a stray file folder across the room. It skidded under the now-unwanted desk. He'd been looking forward to this meeting all week, to the final sign-off, the blessing. He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture rough and impatient.